


Vita

by annerly



Category: Food Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 14:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16683724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annerly/pseuds/annerly
Summary: The deeds and actions of the present often mask the depths of motivations that hides in the past.What an interesting master attendant he had.  His master attendant was the only one able to break that carefully crafted mask of his.





	Vita

“...How interesting....”  
A shining ring of light radiated from the magic circle that had appeared on the floor beneath the food soul.  
No one had attempted to summon him before. It was a new sensation that he had yet to experience. His young, and rather small, master attendant stood before him. A child.  
“Hello. I am Vita. Aqua Vita. Perhaps you’d be more familiar with the name Whiskey,” he introduced with a humble bow.  
Was it possible for a child to even summon him? The question of potential that his attendant held could be argued in opposing ways. Nevertheless, he was summoned. And so he would serve.  
The last thought tugged at the corners of his lips.

 

Whiskey found himself travelling quite frequently alongside his master attendant. They were a curious one, unsatiated by the prospect of staying in one place for too long.  
He found the new pace amusing. Enjoyable almost.

But it was not quite as amusing as his master attendant.  
The little one loved to fool around. The child, barely able to reach the top of the stands in the market, held a golden tongue able to woo the hearts of any mortal.  
While the coins in their pocket were few, barely any had to be expended to receive a large bundle of whatever they desired in return.

They’d dash down the street and into a discreet alleyway before turning around to him chuckling in delight.  
“Got ‘em again, eh?”  
What a rambunctious master attendant he had. He would smile that same smile of his and nod in agreement. “Indeed you did.”

Whiskey would have to walk hastily to catch up to his master attendant bellowing through the streets at full speed. They would occasionally bump into pedestrians with a seemingly genuine apology before scurrying off.  
His master attendant would pridefully show off the little goods they plucked off from a stranger’s pocket or purse.

His master attendant was not borne to a well-off family. From a first hand glance, the child seem to carry themselves in a high stupor that would suggest otherwise. Yet their tendency to wander around the streets without aim or purpose indicated otherwise.  
Many nights were spent on the outskirts of a passing town, huddled under a tree for shelter when the coins in their pocket were sparse.

“Master Attendant… do you perhaps not-?” Whiskey paused. He stared down at the child nestled in his jacket for warmth.  
They peered curiously at Whiskey with those glittering eyes. “Mmm? Do I not what?”  
“It’s nothing. Please forget it.”  
They continued their stare. “A home?” The word fell from their lips in a soft whisper. 

For once, Whiskey felt a discomfort that he hadn’t experienced before. Their master attendant had averted their gaze and stared blankly at a nearby leaf on the forest ground with sudden interest. “My apologies. I did not mean to-”  
“A home is where your family is, Whiskey.”  
His master attendant stood up a little and positioned themself to face him. “A home is where the people you care about are.”

He did not have to hear more to understand the implications of the little one. But despite all of the false pretenses that he could have responded with, he was unable to bring himself to act upon them. A hesitation to give the false comfort that he would normally give made itself very present. And it made him very uncomfortable with its presence.

His master attendant smiled at him with that quirky smile of theirs.  
“So, Whiskey. If home is where all the people you care about are, then everywhere is my home!” His master attendant stretched out their arms towards the sky in a grandiose gesture.  
Whiskey was rather surprised.  
“Everywhere is your home?”  
His master attendant nodded eagerly. “Because you’re with me, Whiskey! Everywhere I go!”

A peculiar feeling immersed him, grappling at his chest. How funny.  
“Your smile’s a little different right now, Whiskey.”  
“Oh, is it?” He dropped his expression and tried to adjust the corners of his mouth to pinpoint the abnormality that was brought to his attendant’s attention. His master attendant held their hands up to his face and pressed their head against him.  
“Yes, but I like this one!”  
Was it attachment? Fondness? But it was certainly an emotion that he had never processed before. It was an amusing feeling.  
“I’m flattered, Master Attendant.”  
While he could not identify that mysterious feeling that overtook him, he did know for certain that he would do anything in order to preserve that moment, that connection, between them.

 

“Look, Whiskey! I got ten of them this time!” Their eyes glistened with excitement as they showed off their haul.  
“Mmmm… but you missed the other gentleman, didn’t you?”  
His attendant’s eyes grew wide. “What gentleman?”  
Whiskey smiled. “The one with the top hat and locket in his chest pocket,” he replied. “The one you bumped into, but missed the opportunity you had to take what you wanted.” Whiskey held up a golden locket with the insignia of two intertwined snakes.  
“Darn it, Whiskey!” Their bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “You’re good at this…”  
Whiskey smiled and placed the pocket watch in his attendant’s hand. “I’m flattered.”  
They examined the locket with interest before slipping it into the pouch of treasures they carried.  
“Alright! Well, off to the next-!” Their words were cut off by a series of coughs.  
“Master Attendant…?”  
“Oh, I’m alright! I think I choked on something…?”  
There was something unsettling about that moment. Unfortunately at the time, he had let it slip by without much regard. “Please be careful, Master Attendant.”  
His attendant pouted. “Aw, alright, alright. You worry too much!” they said before starting to run off once more.

 

“Come look! This is an ancient sword from a more chaotic time! Said to be wielded by humanity’s greatest hero, having slain hundreds of fallen angels before succumbing to become one himself!”  
Whiskey overlooked his attendant’s ploy at selling a rusted sword embellished with some polished riverstone and fools’ gold on the handle.  
A crowd had gathered around the table, and caught the eye of a couple interested aristocrats.  
“It has survived to tell its tale, and many had once held it in their possession! In a peculiar night, the previous owner of this sword bore the misfortune of encountering a fallen along his journey home…”  
His attendant was getting into the tale of how they found the sword next to the dying body of the “previous owner” with the decaying carcass of a fallen nearby who wished to pass on the sword to someone worthy.

“Wooohooo!”  
The large sack of golden coins jingled merrily at his attendant’s side.   
“What fools aren’t they, Whiskey?” His attendant, now a young adult, strode gleefully alongside Whiskey.  
“It’s difficult to not fall for your compelling tales, Master Attendant.”  
They gave a playful tap on Whiskey’s arm. “Aww! You’re making me blush, Whiskey!” 

Trade and negotiation, his master attendant called it. Deceit and trickery were simply more “stronger” words for the things they engage in.  
The jingling of coins gave a rhythmic beat to their walk. “Let’s get some supper and call it a day, eh? We can get your favorite~.”  
Whiskey let out a polite laugh. “Master Attendant, you know that food souls need not eat.”  
“Nonsense!” they said with a flourish. “But you’re still able to eat~!” They held up their bag of coins. “And it’s your favorite~!”  
There it was again. That feeling that he would get around his master attendant.  
“Oho! You’re smiling again, Whiskey!”  
“Once again, Master Attendant, I mean no disrespect when I say that your eyes are failing you. I am always smiling, and I am smiling no different now than I am before.”

His master attendant had been insistenting as of late about how he would smile. Their original comment as a child took him off guard and compelled him to repeatedly check his expression in the mirror. The results were consistent. His smile was the same and held no visible difference. Perhaps his master attendant was delusional.

He was brought out of his thoughts at the sight of his attendant’s sudden fall. But luckily, Whiskey was able to catch them by the arm before they managed to collide with the abrasive ground below.  
“Ah! Thanks for the catch!” They started to stand themselves upright, but had strange difficulty. Whiskey came to their assistance. They chuckled as he helped to stand them upright on their feet. “So clumsy of me!”  
Their walk was strange. Uneven. A limp in their side.  
But despite their strange walk, his master attendant gave no indication that it bothered them, even going as far as to implore Whiskey to hurry along before they run out of his favorite dish.

 

They snuggled up against him at night. It was a habit that they did not grow out of as a child. They would nestle their head against his chest with arms tightly wrapped around him.  
Perhaps it provided them some warmth. It did to Whiskey. Their body heat was something that he grew to indulge in as the food soul would typically stray to colder environments to replenish his energy and freshness.

But he was bothered as of late. He would typically humor his master attendant by going to rest alongside them, but he was restless now.  
Coughs would shake their body and send unease through him. It was strange how he was bothered by it when he would typically not care for the wellbeing of anything.  
On occasion, they would flinch at the touch of their body recoiling from what appeared to be pain.  
He cautiously held them in his arm as to safeguard them from whatever ailment came to assault them in their rest.

 

Whiskey inquired around for information that would potentially give him insight on his master attendant’s condition. Yet none seem to be equipped with the information or remedy that was of use to him. However, a practice called “alchemy” piqued his interest as it seem to hold an interesting approach to assist his aims.  
He began to explore into that field whilst still looking for other means of information.

And then one day, his master attendant’s mysterious condition took a turn for the worse.

Their attempt to hide whatever pain they felt in their limbs faltered and revealed to him at they were not able to move as well as they once did. They were not able to hide their lack of breath and withhold themselves from coughing incessantly.  
The vast world that they traversed and lived in became limited to their bed.  
His master attendant was isolated to the bedroom in a small cottage that they amassed enough funds to purchase and stay in.  
In addition to the physical pain of the condition his master was in, the pain translated over emotionally as well. Though this, his attendant worked better to hide from Whiskey. Despite only crying when they were sure that Whiskey was out of range to see and hear, he heard it all too well.

His master attendant’s pain transferred over to Whiskey as well. It was peculiar because he did not exhibit any of the same health conditions that his attendant was. He did not believe that food souls were capable of experiencing the health conditions that plague humans. So he was unsure why he felt such pain and discomfort.  
Was it due to the contract between master attendant and food soul? But he had never heard of such thing before.

His master attendant, once an unstoppable force of fire and havoc, was reduced to this sorry state.  
He found that he was being apologized to quite frequently.  
He wasn’t used to cooking. His first dish of congee he made for his master attendant nearly ended their misery then and there.  
“D-does it taste bad…?”  
His master attendant hurriedly shoveled another spoonful of congee into their mouth and shook their head viciously. Their face was drained of any remaining color that was left in the wake of their illness. “N-nope! Best congee I’ve ever had!”  
“I see. It must have been the bourbon I added…”  
“B-BOURBON???”  
“I was joking, Master Attendant.”  
The joke was supposed to alleviate the tension that surrounded the two. But it still left a dry sensation in his mouth.  
He wasn’t used to cooking and it drained him of most of his energy to create a single dish. Despite having followed the recipe, he wasn’t able to replicate the complexity of flavor that his attendant was able to cook with.  
They placed the finished bowl down before muttering something.  
“Sorry, what was that?”  
“Whiskey… I’m sorry… for making you cook… and watching over everything like this.”  
Their eyes bore a sadness that he was not acquainted to seeing. The air seem to hang heavy with a tension that was not well-associated with the energy that his master attendant usually radiated.  
“Please… don’t say that, Master Attendant.”  
“Whiskey….” His attendant looked up at him. “Your… smile… isn’t there…”  
“Master attendant, like I’ve told you countless of times-”  
“Your other one… isn’t there either…” They held Whiskey’s hand in theirs. It was cold compared it how it normally was. “I’m sorry. Have I upset you with my… condition...?”  
Whiskey hesitantly touched his face. Indeed, he was not smiling. How peculiar. He gently placed their hand down and tucked them into bed.  
“Master Attendant, please wait momentarily. I will be back soon.” Whiskey stood up from his chair and exited his attendant’s bedroom. He closed the door softly and heard it shut behind him.  
He glanced at a mirror hanging on the wall. Indeed he was not smiling. Not even the false one that he bore.  
The mirror cracked and shattered at the force of Whiskey’s wrath.  
He stared blankly at the shards beneath his feet. Broken. Like he.

 

“...Is it selfish of me to wish to see you be yourself again…? ...In all the joy that you once possessed in the past...?”  
The realization that the thought was said aloud shocked Whiskey. Days had passed since his unbecoming actions. His Master attendant gazed curiously at him and let out a soft laugh.  
“No. I don’t think so.” They toyed with the hem of the comforter that covered them. “Sometimes I see the both of us wandering through the streets of Nevras, of Gloriville, of the Light Kingdom. I see images where I get better and we’d visit a tavern, play pranks on the rich people and watch the stars in the night sky together. The two of us…” A small cough echoed in the silent room. “I think, though, it’s just an illusion that appears in front of my eyes.”  
“What if that could be reality?” Whiskey’s usually light-hearted and calm tone held a serious edge.  
His attendant said nothing. They only gave him a soft smile to comfort his musings.  
“I’m glad that you were the one that I summoned, Whiskey. Thank you.”  
The kindling of discomfort he had that originated from a feeling he could not identify burst to flame. It overcame his senses and took over his mind. Discomfort grew to pain, which led to an unbearable feeling in him. Anger? Sadness?

He came to the realization that it was attachment that had so shaken his once staunch facade.  
The realization gave way to an onslaught of thoughts and emotions that he never was able to process within his mind.

There was no time left. He had to hurry.

 

His time was spent laboring hours of research into the techniques of alchemy. Experimenting with techniques without any result. He was missing something. A key component to forward his progress. But what?

He entered his master attendant’s room with a bowl of soup he had prepared. They turned their head towards him and gave him a smile as he sat down at their bedside with the meal.  
“Have you been busy with something lately?” His master attendant’s soft voice was but a small murmur barely able to reach his ears.  
Their dull eyes gazed into his.  
He sensed an emptiness within them.  
“Not really.”  
He averted his eyes. As of late, he found himself unable to look at his master attendant and tell a blatant lie to their face. And they knew.  
“Whiskey.”  
A simple call of his name was the only requirement to wring out the truth.  
“Just… trying to find something to cure you,” he was able to get out.  
His ability to lie only faltered around his attendant. More often than not, he found himself unable to keep up a facade in front of them.  
His master attendant could only breathe out what he could recognize as a weak chuckle. “You don’t have to. I’m not… going to be here for much longer anyways.”  
“But, I’m so close to the-”  
“Whiskey.”   
His master attendant cut him off and beckoned for him to come closer.  
He grabbed ahold of their hand, gingerly in his. “I’m listening.”  
A soft smile etched itself on their lips.  
“I just want you to be here with me. For my final moments. Please?”  
Sudden waves of tremors shook his body. It was bewildering. A choking sensation ate at his throat and left him gasping for uneven breaths.  
Despite his own confusion about what suddenly overtook him, his master attendant understood and wrapped their arms around him-- their hands running up and down his back.  
He was unable to do anything but relinquish himself to the comfort of their arms.

 

“I do not wish for you to leave.”  
“This is the first time you’ve expressed yourself, Whiskey.” His master attendant had some air of pride around them. “I’m happy.”  
He had a foreboding sense of urgency when he awoke that morning. He immediately rushed over to his attendant’s room to find them already propped up in their bed, a feat that was unattainable for them only a day prior.  
He knew. They both knew. It was their final moments together.  
“Remember that one time you ousted me in the pickpocketing game back in Nevras?” Their hand, clasping some object positioned itself in his and let go.  
The golden locket revealed itself in his palm.  
“I do remember it. I remember it clearly.” He clasped it in his hand.  
He was aware that his typical smile was nowhere to be found on his face. He had lost the ability to hold that guise up to his attendant long ago.  
“I first wondered what type of food soul I would summon…” their eyes held a vision of a distant time. “At first, I thought you were so serious. But it turns out we’re alike in many ways.”  
They locked eyes with him. Their gaze holding a torrent of unconveyed words.  
“Thank you for always staying with me... Whiskey.”  
Their eyes were closing now. Shutting those once vibrant hues of energy away from the material world.  
“…. I’ve…. always....”  
Their voice trailed off. Pulled away to silence as an eternal slumber overtook their consciousness.  
Their hand fell limp in his. He could already feel the warmth leaving their skin.  
A strange dew of water had fallen in the middle of his attendant’s cheek.  
Perhaps it was a leak in the ceiling that allowed for a drop of rain to fall upon his attendant’s face.  
Whiskey stared blankly at the sun radiating brightly in a sky void of clouds.

The time of humans was finite. Yet his time was infinite.  
A foolish dream sprouted into his head.

He needed to find it.  
The way to change everything around him.

To turn illusion into reality, pain into pleasure, and an end to rebirth.

**Author's Note:**

> I love my evil boi so much~~~.  
> Whiskey please come home! D:


End file.
